


Your Mess Is Mine

by okjaa



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 20:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okjaa/pseuds/okjaa
Summary: Klaus Hargreeves, a poet who lives off his poetry, but rather spends his money on drugs than on food.Dave Katz, an English professor who is really interested in Klaus' poetry.When Dave meets Klaus on the streets, he decides to let him stay at his house for awhile.  The two get along easily, but their different lifestyles make some things difficult. Things take an unexpected turn as Dave tries to help Klaus with his drug addiction.// tw: suicide mentions, drugs, alcohol //





	1. Chapter 1

Klaus liked himself the best when he wasn't being himself, and that was quite the problem.

Saturday night and no one was around to see a lonely man lay around in an alley with a bottle of just-bought alcohol in hand. The only sound was the ringing of the silence around Klaus' ears. Both his eyes and thoughts were blurry. His head was filled with stupid, regrettable ideas, and no one was there to stop him.

His notebook laid empty next to him. At the right top corner, he could vaguely see some doodles he had drawn earlier that day. He had nothing to do all day. All he did was sit around, waiting on some kind of miracle to save him from this life. He lived off the bad poetry book he had published a year ago. It never made him a rich man, nor a very poor one. He didn't have a house or a job, but he was okay with living on the streets. He could afford food if he wanted to, but the drugs had him in a chokehold. There was no escape from the sweet, addicting taste of some pills.

He was only half-awake, but he could hear the chatter on the street. New York had always been a very busy city. He had gotten used to the sound of cars, crying children, and fighting. He had been living on the streets ever since he turned 20, which was two years ago. His parents weren't the richest, and they had kicked him out when they found out he took drugs. Klaus didn't like his past very much. He was quite embarrassed about it, actually. His siblings were all off to have a successful career, and he was living on the dirty streets of New York city like some kind of old rat looking for his last will to live. None of them had ever helped him. He was the outcast of the family, rather known as "the junkie" than as "Klaus". He didn't blame his siblings, though. He had gotten himself into this mess.

The world was very ugly and very lonely, and Klaus didn't care about his own life anymore. The thought of suicide had crossed his mind too often, but he had always been too scared to actually do it. Death meant no drugs, and Klaus liked the little pills way too much.

'I should get...up.' Klaus whispered to himself since no one was around. He'd do that sometimes. It wasn't like anyone was listening, anyway.

The ground was covered in mud and Klaus sighed as he saw his dirty jeans. Luckily, his blue hoodie didn't get any mud on it. Usually, he'd wear more flamboyant clothing, but as winter was approaching, it kept getting colder and he had switched to wearing something warmer. Skirts didn't really seal the deal right now.

He looked down at his empty notebook, picked it up, and safely put it away as if it were made of gold. The money he made off his poems wasn't much, but enough to keep him alive. He liked his poetry, and people liked it as well. That was all he wanted. A man once told Klaus that a book was a world you could carry inside your back pocket, and he took that advice very seriously. No one but him was allowed to touch his notebook, except for Ben, maybe.

Ben was his younger brother, but they hadn't seen eachother in almost two years. When Klaus got kicked out, Ben was the one who was willing to pay for an apartment. But then, Ben got into a very serious accident and all the cost went to his operation. After that, Ben had never reached out to Klaus again. They'd sent letters to eachother, but the last time Klaus actually saw Ben, he had been 19. Sometimes, Klaus wondered what Ben was up to these days, but there was no way to reach his brother anymore.

Klaus pulled out a wrinkled paper from his back pocket. It was a note with different addresses on it. 'Yeah, that'll do.' Klaus whispered and crumbled up the note again. 'I just hope Jamie is home.'

He'd visit Jamie all the time for his weekly dose of cocaine. He lived in the other part of the city, and the entire walk there lasted at least two hours. Klaus really didn't feel like moving today, but then he remembered how much he loved his drugs. Usually, he'd enter Jamie's house looking half-dead, and Jamie would offer him a drink. They'd get drunk together and then move to Jamie's bedroom. Klaus' mind wasn't set on that right now. All he wanted to do was get the job done and find another, abandoned alley to sleep in.

Jamie and him weren't lovers, anymore. They had dated in high school, grew apart, and then re-found each other five years later. When they started dating again, their relationship consisted of nothing but drunken sex, ridiculous fights, and snorting cocaine together. Klaus put an end to it after a year. It wasn't healthy for him, all the fighting and making up. He needed a steady relationship, although he wasn't sure if he could handle that. Relationships took effort, and Klaus was too tired for effort. It wasn't going to happen anytime soon, but he didn't really care. Jamie satisfied him enough, even if he could never remember what happened the morning after. 

Klaus began to walk down the street. New York looked most alive during the night. Drug dealers of all kind stood in groups, whispering about their business. Klaus noticed a group of friends laughing about something that had happened in high school. He smiled slightly. He loved the dynamic some people shared with eachother, although he had never known it himself. He wasn't really the kind to have friends. The only people he knew, were just like him; drug-addicted assholes with too much time on their hands. It bothered him sometimes. Being an addict was a sad, isolated life. He was missing out on all the fun of being a young adult.

He pulled out the paper again. His sight was still blurry. Did he read the address correctly? It was silly that even after two years, he still didn't know Jamie's address. Klaus wasn't so good at remembering things, and people. The only thing he could remember well was how many doses he should take of each pill to reach the ultimate level of subconsciousness.

The alcohol Klaus had drunk just half an hour earlier was making its way to his head and he started to feel a little tipsy. This was his favorite part of all; the little stage between being sober and being sloppy drunk. His legs started to feel wobbly, and he quickly crumbled up the paper.

'Oh, sorry.' A voice nearby said. Klaus didn't realize he had walked against someone. He looked up and his eyes greeted a tall, blond man. Klaus smiled but was unable to speak.

'It's n-nothing,' Klaus stuttered. 'It was my fault.' He couldn't look the handsome stranger in the eyes. Klaus had always been shy around good-looking people, especially men.

The man looked at him with questioning eyes. 'Your fault? Not at all. You were just reading!' He laughed and Klaus felt his heart light up. The man held his left hand out towards Klaus. 'Dave.'

Klaus didn't react right away. He wasn't used to people introducing themselves to him. Most of them didn't even look at him when they walked by. He was like a living ghost, and that thought made Klaus very sad.   
'Klaus.' He replied after a solid twenty seconds. He no longer felt like himself with all the alcohol in his system. 'I really hope this isn't too weird. And if it is, feel free to forget everything about me and my entire existence.' Klaus blurted out before he could stop himself.

Dave laughed. He was very pretty like that, Klaus thought. 'Weird? Not at all.' He looked down at Klaus' hoodie. 'What are you doing outside at this ungodly hour with no jacket on?'

Klaus chuckled. 'Just walking. Enjoying the great Saturday night vibe, you know?' He looked at Dave, hoping that he'd know what he meant. To his relief, Dave started laughing.

'Yeah, I know what you mean. I was doing the same, actually.' He sighed. 'Saturday night is the most beautiful night of the week, don't you think?'

Klaus, who was distracted by Dave's face, nodded without knowing why. He wished he could remember Saturday nights, as he'd usually get high, or drunk. 'It's cool.' He replied. 'No one's waiting on me at home and I have all the time in the world.'

'Don't you have a partner?' Dave seemed shocked. 'An attractive guy like you?' He laughed, but then winked. 'I think you're lying.'

Klaus grinned. He wasn't lying, at all. No one was waiting for him. 'I'm really not. I only have myself.' He looked down at the paper in his fist. 'And my little set of pills to keep me going. It gets too lonely sometimes.'

'You know what? It's pretty cold outside,' Dave said with his eyes still focused on Klaus' hoodie. 'You can stay at my apartment for a night if you want to.' Something in his tone gave it away that he was really hoping that Klaus would give in and stay over.

Klaus, completely struck by the fact that someone had decided to let a junkie like him stay over, was unable to form a sentence. 'I mean..yeah, but uh,' he stuttered. 'isn't it annoying?' He looked at Dave, half grinning like an idiot, and half wanting to vanish into thin air. 'I'll probably be very hangover tomorrow.' Dave had made a very strange offer, and Klaus didn't really know what to think of it.

'No, no,' Dave said softly. 'It's totally fine. I'll take care of you. I know how shit it is to be an addict, and sometimes you need a friend. I'll be that friend, alright?'

Klaus was completely blown away by his response. He didn't have any friends, and as far as he knew, he didn't need any. Up until now. The offer was made, and Klaus was very lonely. Maybe he could actually get close to someone now. 'Yeah, I mean, if you insist.'

Dave, who was smiling like a kid, grinned. 'Alright, then.' He, then, started to unbutton his coat. 'Here, have my coat. You're wearing only a hoodie and it's winter. You'll catch a cold before you know it.' He held out the coat towards Klaus, and Klaus didn't know what to do besides take it.

'Let's go, then,' Dave exclaimed and looked at Klaus with a sparkle in his eyes. It was like he had been waiting for Klaus as if they had been best friends in a past life. As if in every lifetime Dave had lived, he had always chosen Klaus. 'friend.'


	2. 2

It wasn't that cold, but Klaus was glad he was wearing Dave's coat.

The somewhat cold, icy wind burned Klaus' eyes as he aggressively tried to keep his hands warm by breathing into them every now and then. It was a long walk to Dave's apartment, and he felt himself get more nauseous every passing second. Just half an hour ago, he had been sure he'd go to Jamie's apartment for his weekly dose of pills. But now he was on his way to the house of his newfound friend, Dave, and he didn't really care about the drugs anymore. Jamie could wait one more day.

'Are you alright back there?' Dave's voice interrupted Klaus' thoughts. He was walking a bit ahead of Klaus, and Klaus hadn't said a word in over fifteen minutes. Dave didn't seem to have a problem without his coat; he was constantly waving to other people and he occasionally whipped out his smartphone to text someone. He obviously had a lot of friends, Klaus thought by himself as they approached a cozy-looking apartment building with stylish cars up front.

Klaus smiled. 'Oh, yeah. Everything is going great!' He reassured Dave. 'It's a little cold, but it's fine.' His lips were all chapped and they hurt like hell. Every time he opened his mouth, he could feel the skin tear apart. The taste of iron filled his mouth, and it took him some time before he realised it was blood.

Dave abruptly stopped and his hand went into the pockets of his black jeans to search for something. 'No worries, we're here.'

Klaus couldn't help but stare at the building with admiration. It was the cozy building with the expensive cars, and he couldn't believe Dave actually lived here. Never in his entire life would Klaus be able to pay an apartment as good-looking as this. 'Woah.' Was all he could say. 'Isn't this like, a million dollars?'

Dave laughed as they walked to the big, wooden door. 'No, but an apartment here isn't quite cheap. I had to work very hard for it.' They entered the hallway, and it was, to say the least, incredible. It was pretty small, but it was super cozy. The lightning was low, and the walls were just bricks. The floor was made out of metal or stone, Klaus wasn't sure. There was no staircase to be found, only a door at the back of the room. Klaus suspected it led to an elevator. He knew industrial apartments like these were only meant for the richer ones. Industrial lofts were too expensive for the middle class, or lower class, people like him.

'Klaus?' He heard and snapped out of his daydream. He didn't realize that Dave had been waiting on him for the past five minutes. Klaus felt sad, and happy at the same time. He wished he could afford something like this. 'Are you still coming with me.'

'Oh, yeah. Sorry.' Klaus quickly said and jogged towards the elevator.

◇◇◇

The elevator ride was silent, but not awkward. Klaus couldn't keep his eyes off Dave, who was checking his phone and tapping his foot along with the horrible elevator music. Klaus chuckled.   
He felt really sick, but he didn't want to worry Dave even more. Not that he seemed to be worried about something, anyway. If Klaus were to let a stranger stay over at his apartment, he'd be a bit worried. But no, Dave didn't seem to worry about Klaus being a disaster.

A soft ping indicated that they had arrived à la place. Dave pushed one of the buttons, and the door opened. His keys jingled as they started walking past doors.

'Room 36,' Dave murmured under his breath. 'That's mine.' His key fit perfectly, and with a satisfying click, the door opened, exposing a large room with brick walls and a gray floor, which Klaus suspected was made out of stone. He supposed this was the entry hall. Coats were hanging from various racks, a couple of shoes were standing lonely at the door, and Klaus was greeted by the smell of vanilla.

Dave walked inside with Klaus closely following him. He started to untie his shoes, so Klaus did the same. His all-black, ravaged All-Stars were shit compared to Dave's fancy, and probably overpriced Gucci flats. He had been wearing the same shoes for over five years, and they were still good enough. The only thing they had to do was drag Klaus from one drug dealer to another. 

'Welcome to my apartment.' Dave muttered as they entered the living room. It was small but cozy. Just like in the hallway, the walls were brick. The entire space was filled with modern furniture, mostly gray or a darker shade of gray. There was a nice contrast between an industrial home and a modern apartment. 'It's not that big, but it'll fit the two of us. I only have one bed, though.' He looked at Klaus with a concerned expression. 'I really hope that isn't a problem?'

Klaus smirked. Of course, it wasn't a problem for him. He didn't get to sleep in one bed with a handsome man that often. But then he realised that he didn't know Dave, and Dave didn't know him, and it'd probably be really awkward. 'I can sleep on the couch.' Klaus replied, really hoping that Dave had a couch big enough to fit a human being.

Dave raised his eyebrows. 'Are you sure?' He pointed at a small, gray couch in the center of the living room. 'That thing is as hard as bricks.'

Klaus, who was used to sleeping on a brick ground, chuckled. 'Yeah, I'm sure. It's really nice that you're doing this for me, handsome.' He slurred. Apparently, the alcohol wasn't out of his system yet.

'Alright,' Dave started walking towards a door that supposedly led to his bedroom. 'I'll grab a pillow and a blanket for you.' He turned around. 'If you vomit on anything, I will end you.' He laughed.

Klaus smiled. He was so happy here. Through the huge windows on the right side of Dave's apartment, he could see the city and all the pretty lights that he knew so well. This must be what it feels like to have a home, he thought by himself as he sat down on the couch. He could stay up all night to admire the view if he wanted to.

As Dave went to his bedroom for Klaus' stuff, Klaus looked around. His mind was no longer with the view outside, but rather with the view inside. Dave's apartment was gorgeous. The brick walls were very much taken care of and the furniture looked so expensive that Klaus was afraid just touching any of it. It didn't feel right for him to be here, but at the same time, it felt so good to have a safe place to sleep. No drugs or alcohol in the world could make him feel as happy as he was at Dave's house.

Dave re-entered the room, struggling to hold up two pillows and a large blanket. He muttered something that Klaus couldn't understand, but Klaus got up anyways. He took a pillow and offered to take the blanket as well. 'I can do it myself. It's less work for you.' He whispered as he tried to figure out what the best way was to put the blanket on the couch so it would cover both his chest and his feet.

'It's okay.' Dave smiled. 'You're my guest, remember?' He helped Klaus with the blanket and the pillow. Klaus felt Dave's hand brush against his, and he smiled softly.

'Can't argue with that.' Klaus chuckled and placed the last pillow next to the first one. His "bed" was made, and suddenly, Klaus felt very tired. However, he still wanted to stay up to talk to Dave. He didn't even know what time it was, but he couldn't care less. Dave was the kindest person Klaus had ever met in his entire life, and his mind was set on getting to know the man, no matter the time.

Klaus sat down on his bed. 'Hey, Dave?' He asked, making the taller man, who was on his way to his bedroom, turn around in confusion. 'Do you want to stay up and talk?'

'Talk about what?' Dave replied with a soft tone. Klaus could hear that he was tired.

'Everything.' Klaus whispered. 'I want to talk about everything with you.' He looked at Dave with pleading eyes. He hadn't talked about something with someone in so long. His conversations with Jamie usually didn't include a lot of deep thoughts.

Dave made his way to the couch. He yawned but smiled after. 'Sure,' he said. 'Why not?'   
As he sat down next to Klaus, Klaus felt his heart jump from joy. He was at ease, completely calmed down.

'We're going to ask eachother a question at a time.' Klaus explained. 'I'll start. What's your last name?' He looked at the man next to him.

Dave smiled. 'Katz.' He said. 'It's not really a nice last name, I know.' He looked down as if he was ashamed to tell Klaus that.

'Well, I think it's beautiful.' Klaus replied, and put his hand on Dave's leg, as a way to comfort him. Dave looked up in surprise, and then back down at Klaus' hand. As fast as light, Klaus put his hand away. Was he allowed to do this?

Dave noticed Klaus' sudden behavior and smiled. 'Oh, no. It's okay.' He whispered. 'Thank you for trying to make me feel better. It worked.' He laughed, and Klaus sighed in relief. 'My question is, what kind of person are you, Klaus?'

That question hit Klaus like a bus and he was immediately taken aback. No one had ever asked him this before. He usually wrote stuff like this down in ink. He was much better with a pen than with his mouth. 'How much of a person is a junkie?' Klaus asked, but then sighed. 'I'm a poet, but people don't consider me one. Most poets don't drink their life away at an age like mine.'

Dave looked at him, quite confused. 'You're a poet?' His face lit up. 'That's so cool. I've always wanted to be one, but I think I lack the imagination that goes along with writing your heart out. I guess art isn't for everyone.'

'Oh, really?' Klaus smirked, looking at Dave with an amused look on his face. 'I think art is in everything. I mean, everything is art if you've put a piece of yourself into it. Writing poems has been my form of escape for many years. It's easy; do you want to live forever?'

Dave nodded slowly. Klaus could see he had no idea where this was going.

'Write a poem or a song, and you'll live on even after death.' Klaus said. He had written so many poems already, and the thought of people reading them hundreds, maybe thousands of years later, made him anxious.

It was silent for a while, but then Dave nodded. 'I guess it makes sense.' He whispered. 'It's a beautiful thing to live by. I think I might tell my students that, if you don't mind?'

Klaus, who had been staring at a point in the distance, came back to reality. 'Wait, you're a teacher?'

'Yeah, I teach English,' Dave smiled. 'It's a fun job, but also quite exhausting, especially when you have a difficult class like mine. I try to motivate them to write a poem due to the end of the school year.'

Klaus looked at him in admiration. He had never gone to school, really. He had always been homeschooled up until he got kicked out. He'd be terrible at the entire "make friends, be nice" thing that schools had going on. He figured he could better keep his mouth shut about that to Dave. He wanted to make a good impression despite being sick drunk. 'That's okay. I think you're a very fun teacher.' Klaus had no idea what he was saying anymore, but he suddenly felt very, very tired. He yawned.

Dave, who had seen Klaus' yawn, chuckled. 'You should get some rest. We both do.' He looked at the clock on the wall, which had just struck 1 am. 'It's already past midnight, and we're still awake.'

Klaus nodded and smiled. He felt so happy here, on this couch, with Dave. He had found himself a friend without the help of drugs, and that already meant a lot to him. 'Goodnight, Dave.' He whispered with a hoarse voice.

Dave stood up, stretched and then turned around to face Klaus. He had a sleepy smile on his face that made Klaus' heart jump of joy. 'Goodnight, Klaus.' He responded and then he walked to his own room, leaving Klaus on the couch.

As soon as he put his head down, sleep embraced Klaus and it felt like a heavyweight. This time, he was all alone by himself. Neither his drugs or Dave, were there to distract him from a peaceful rest. Dave was in the other room sleeping, just like Klaus. It didn't make him sad.

For the first time in years, someone, and not something, made him happy.


End file.
